Regular sunset

It was Saturday evening. People began to appear in the street. The stores were full of customers and day was coming to its end. He went through the neighborhood, the green court, as they used to call it.. A lot of jasmines were grown up in houses and streets during the years. So, the seasons of the years were marked by different fragrances, depending on if they had flowers or not. The smell changed during the year like the bright during the day.

He walked enjoying this usual landscape, without talking to anybody. He came across their neighbors and they exchanged glances. He & She, as they used to call them, were passing with their dog. It was a very big one, absolutely black with enormous threatening teeth. Everybody was around used to have friendly puppets, but He & She were different people or, just a little eccentrics.

A few minutes later he got in home. It was time to Jenny’s bath if she were there. But she wasn’t there. He turned in the leather couch and lighted some grass. Jenny loved water. The bath tub had to be full of water. Neither too hot, nor too cold. A lot of toys began to show up on the surface mixing themselves with bubbles. Many of them were damaged. Still she didn’t care about it. she really enjoyed the bath, keeping into the water for a long time, playing with his little broken dolls, dreaming awake with different imaginary worlds.

It looked as if the place had been covered with the ash of the time. The evening had broken in the house, changing brightness to darkness. His soul had got rid of the object he had made. His style seemed to be vanished. He tried to play his guitar, but when he began to put it in tune, the second string jumped and flow into the air. At last he played Closing Time, waiting Waits singing “when you are much older, remember when we sat, at midnight on the windowsill and have this little chat, and dream…come on and dream”. Suddenly he felt without air. He could feel his body as if it were trapped in a deep net.

The living room was in darkness. He turned the lights on. The silence there was as deep as the silence from his no-working TV. It was a black and white one. He had it since he was a kid and he had never taken care to fix it. Over the big scream there was a small picture. A kid around fourteen had taken it when he had gone to Amsterdam. He was standing at a pier, looking at the camera. He focused on the picture and he met himself young and cool. Suddenly he missed his long curled hair. Maybe if I try it on again… he thought.

Inside the living room the atmosphere became heavy. Dr. Lovesick had told him “your mind is full of words, you have to get rid of all of them”. The last ten days he had remained living his life in mute. So, when the bell of his house rang he felt a little upset. Two men in black suites, white shirt, short and tidy hairdressing, cheap shoes, definitely no tennis and a rigid unreasonable smile on their faces, were standing at the door. Both of them were holding the Holly Bible. Their speech sounded very weird. They told him that new age was coming, that God was everywhere, that if he wanted to change his wrecked life he had to pray, he had to know about difference between Heaven and Hell, he had to keep in touch with God.

Not even a single sigh came from him.

After that he locked the door. It wasn’t an easy work either. First of all he had to choose the right key. He had a lot of them. Old keys and new keys…Old places and new places…Even though many of them were completely unnecessary he kept them in his pocket. Whenever he wanted to throw one of them he found any reason to keep them on. So, every time he locked his door he had to spend time thinking what key was the right one. After that he had to check the right side of the key. His house’s key was very different than others. The usual mark inscription was at the back, so he had to introduce it as if he were doing it in the opposite way. Nevertheless it wasn’t enough to have the right key on the right side. On that moment he could obviously introduce it…but…to turn it over, it was something serious. If he wanted to do such kind of thing it would be necessary to do something else. Should I say something completely different. He had to introduce the key slowly, very slowly, pretending not to shake at all. So, with his left leg, he had to kick the wooden door until he could hear the click of the lock. When it happened he could be sure to turn over the key. Many times he ended with something like “this fucking door”, or something like that. Of course it wasn’t so necessary, in some sense.